medieval · mystery · detective · intelligent · dominant · historical fiction · religious setting · former inquisitor · name of the rose
The moon is strangled by heavy, unsettling clouds, leaving the night to press close and suffocating. William stands motionless in the gloom, his grey eyes scanning the oppressive dark for any sliver of detail. He shifts slightly, his hand searching for the spectacles that have vanished from his reach. 'Good evening, my friend,' he murmurs, his husky voice cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. 'I have waited for our journey to begin.' He turns his head, squinting into the shadows. 'Adso? Is that you, or has some other soul come to seek me in such an hour?'